


you make it look like it's magic

by andnowforyaya



Series: earned it [1]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, First Time, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pack Bonding, Pack Feels, Size Difference, Size Kink, Teaching, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4832954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junhong stays home to look after Daehyun, who's just coming down from his Heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [almostblue (fictionalaspect)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalaspect/gifts).



> i apologize there is no porn yet in ch1
> 
> title from _earned it_ by the weeknd
> 
> prompt: daelo, junhong learning how to take care of daehyun the way daehyun needs to be taken care of (a/b/o or pack au? mbe everyone else is gone and it's just them? idk I just want size kink and daehyun being taken care of and loved /o\\)

The house creaked, shifting on its foundations when the wind whistled through the woods that surrounded it on three sides. Junhong loved this house, from the cobwebs taking up residence in the basement where their ancient laundry machine groaned and thumped through the night, to the sunbeams that shone through the tiny circular window in the attic, which was also Junhong’s room.

It wasn’t the best of rooms, and honestly made very little sense as his given how tall Junhong was compared to the others and how the attic room’s ceiling sloped on all sides to accommodate their roof. He could only stand up straight and tall in the very middle, on a path that went from the top of the stairs to his dresser pushed against one wall; in every other spot in his room, he’d hit his head standing, and throughout the years Junhong had suffered many bumps and bruises for forgetting. It wasn’t the best of rooms, but it was his, and it was relatively private, meaning that it took a rather steep and narrow walk up the stairs in order to reach him, which deterred people like Himchan and Daehyun from constantly making the trip to nag at him.

Daehyun. He was downstairs in someone’s bedroom, probably sprawled across their bed naked, skin glistening and glowing even though the weather had just descended into winter, a fresh layer of snow covering the ground and the tops of trees outside. Daehyun was just coming down from an unexpected heat, his body exhausted from activities that took course over the past week and his mind a lovely, warm haze of muddled thoughts about love and comfort and _pack_. Even though Daehyun had a bedroom in the house, he rarely slept in his own bed.

Junhong wondered whose bedroom Daehyun had chosen. Jongup’s room was cramped with posters and figurines and too many shoes, and Daehyun, who was not fond of clutter, would have little reason to be in it if Jongup weren’t there himself. Youngjae’s room smelled like pine and other clean things, but everything about Youngjae was so carefully tucked away into his drawers and shelves that the room had an almost impersonal feel to it, and being in there would only make Daehyun long for his best friend. Himchan’s room was the master bedroom and seemed to have been placed there from an image in a fancy interior design magazine; the color scheme was neutral with a pop of red, and he had a full set of furniture in there, along with art on the walls to accent. There was a connecting bathroom that Daehyun frequented for long, bubble-filled soaks in the big clawed tub, but Junhong thought Daehyun wouldn’t be in there, not after the week he had.

No, Daehyun was most likely in their alpha’s bedroom. Yongguk’s room was smaller than Himchan’s, but it was unmistakably the heart of the house. It was where Junhong had woken up all those years ago, confused and shaken, limbs aching as he pulled what looked like rabbit fur from between his teeth, Yongguk’s concerned face the first thing he saw after a night of succumbing to his first moon after involuntarily being turned. It was where the pack would gather on cold Christmas mornings, piling on top of each other in order to wake up their alpha, eager for presents and a day of gift-giving and close celebration. It was where Youngjae escaped when Himchan was chasing after him for whatever most recent prank he pulled. Where Jongup would go if he needed a space to gather his thoughts.

Daehyun was there. Junhong could picture it. His warm brown skin against Yongguk’s cream-colored sheets, the sun streaming in through the curtains, which Daehyun would have thrown open wide. This place, this room, carried their scents intensely.

The house creaked again, but underneath the noise there was another: a low, plaintive whine that seeped up to him from under the floorboards. Junhong’s ears perked. Since the others had all gone to make introductions with a new pack near the border of their territory, he and Daehyun were the only ones left in the house. Daehyun could not come along because he was still so edgy and unstable from his heat, and Junhong, arguably the most disposable member of the pack because he was the youngest, had been volunteered by the rest to watch over him. They would only be gone a few hours, they promised, and mostly all Junhong needed to do was leave Daehyun alone.

So he did. After Daehyun had untangled himself from around Yongguk and Himchan and Youngjae and Jongup, after they had left and Daehyun began to pace the living room restlessly, moody, his skin prickling when the heat he was generating internally met cool wintry air, Daehyun promised to behave, and Junhong went upstairs to his room. He’d left the door open so he could listen for anything out of the ordinary. Junhong found it hard to be resentful about anything the pack asked him to do, and further, he always wanted to do a good job.

Another whine, this one miserable, high-pitched, drawn out. It made Junhong blush. This was the whine Junhong had heard all last week from behind closed doors. It meant something: _need_ and _attention_ and _sex_. Junhong had listened as this whine brought the older members of the pack into Himchan’s huge room, where Daehyun had holed up for the week, and they took turns fucking the heat out of him. Red seared across Junhong’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose at the thought. He hadn’t taken part because --

Because, what? Sex was new to him, fascinated him. He couldn’t imagine being there in the thick of it, slow and virginal and stupid. It’s not like he didn’t know how it worked. He _knew_ how it worked, theoretically, he just. Didn’t want an audience the first time.

Daehyun whined again, and Junhong felt a pull low in his gut to go check on him. He had to. A large part of it was because he cared deeply about all his hyungs, and Daehyun had always been quick to retreat into himself if he reached for you and you didn’t reach back. Daehyun came to them scrawny, almost underfed, snarling at their attempts to show they cared for him and mournful when he’d realize that was what he wanted: care. Love. Tenderness. His peaks and valleys had smoothed into the occasional bump over time. A smaller part of why he needed to check on Daehyun was because he could already imagine the disappointment in Yongguk’s eyes if the alpha came back to find their omega rutting against the furniture.

He put his tablet where he’d been playing a simple matching game down and slid off the bed, remembering to duck as he walked to the top of the stairs leading down to the second floor. Yongguk’s bedroom was on the ground floor, next to Himchan’s. He headed there quickly, a familiar and floral scent in the air.

The scent grew in intensity the closer to the bedroom he dared. Finally, when he stood just outside the closed door, he heard Daehyun’s voice through the wood.

“Junhong…”

He froze in his place. Daehyun had one of the most interesting voices Junhong had ever heard; when it was low and gravelly Junhong could picture him lounging on top of a piano crooning into an old mic, and then it could be high and sweet like syrup. Just now, his voice was a low tenor, sultry and beckoning.

“Yes, hyung?”

“Come inside,” Daehyun pleaded, his voice muffled through the door. It stank of flowers. Junhong tried to breathe out of his mouth but that was worse; it felt unfiltered. His skin began to warm and tingle as Daehyun’s intoxicating heat-produced pheromones brushed over it.

Junhong shook his head. “Are you okay?” He tried to sound stern but knew he was unsuccessful by how Daehyun giggled.

“Come inside,” he pleaded again, his voice lilting and sweet. “I promise I’ll behave.”

“You did promise,” Junhong said, remembering Daehyun just before he’d fled up to his room. His feet carried him closer to the door. His hand rested on the doorknob. He began to turn it, and then hesitated. “Can I get you anything?”

Daehyun shouted his name, and it made Junhong jump. Reflexively, he opened the door, searching for danger, but only found Daehyun lying on his stomach on Yongguk’s bed, gloriously naked, sunlight streaming in from the bare windows and warming his back. He’d recently dyed his hair a rich chestnut brown that looked red in some lights, and in the sun it looked like fire. Junhong himself had stripped his hair of color about a week ago, letting it grow back black before he would decide what to do with it next. Daehyun saw him and laughed, not meanly, but Junhong still blushed, feeling his mind already grow foggy in the flowery haze contained in the room.

“Are you coming to my rescue?” Daehyun teased, bending one leg at the knee so his ankle was in the air, an offensively coquettish action.

“Hyung--” Junhong huffed, feeling his brows knit together. Seeing there was no danger and that Daehyun was just taking the piss, he stepped back and was about to close the door.

“Wait,” Daehyun called out, raising himself onto his elbows. “I just want -- company. Please.” He swallowed. Out of the corner of his eye, Junhong followed the up-and-down bob of his throat. It was tantalizing. Junhong had steered clear of Daehyun for most of the week, and now seeing him again, like this, was almost too much for him.

“I don’t know,” Junhong mumbled, unsure. He felt like he had one foot in the room and one in the hall, and the rift between them was growing. He wanted to give Daehyun what he needed, but what if he couldn’t? What if he wasn’t good at it?

Daehyun said, “We don’t have to do anything, maybe just cuddle.”

The flowery scent in the air was making Junhong slow. Loose and languid. He felt himself step forward. “I can cuddle,” Junhong heard himself say. He closed the door.

Daehyun made space for him on the bed, which wasn’t hard to do since it filled up nearly half the room and Daehyun was accustomed to making himself small. Junhong was dressed in a baggy pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hip and bunched at his ankles, a ratty t-shirt slung over his frame more for decency than warmth. It might have been winter outside, but as werewolves their bodies ran hotter than humans, and the house retained heat like an oven. He crawled onto the bed, inhaling deeply and getting a noseful of flowers and Yongguk’s woodsy, nutty scent. They arranged themselves so that Junhong was curved behind Daehyun’s back, knees pressed against the backs of the omega’s knees. When Junhong reached up to adjust the pillows, Daehyun’s hand darted back and grasped his, dragging it until his arm was draped over his waist.

Strangely, this close, Daehyun’s overwhelming floral scent was subdued. This close, Junhong could make out the bouquet that made up Daehyun’s profile: warm honey and spiced vanilla, salt and sand. He nosed along the back of Daehyun’s neck, and Daehyun shivered. “If you do that,” he whispered, “I can’t promise this will be just cuddling.”

Junhong pulled back just a hair and felt Daehyun sag against him. He was entirely too conscious of Daehyun’s bare bum pressed against his crotch. They stayed like this until it didn’t feel awkward to Junhong anymore, and the sky darkened to a burnt orange as the sun set. Daehyun shifted, rubbing back against Junhong, and Junhong felt the muscles of his stomach tighten. “Why do you smell like flowers?” he blurted.

“What?” The response was sleepy and slurred.

Junhong pulled himself closer, the warmth of Daehyun’s skin seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt. “You smell like flowers,” Junhong explained, “when you’re...in heat...Why?”

“I smell like flowers to you?”

“Yes.”

Daehyun shrugged. “I smell like chocolate and wine to Himchan. Like a bakery to Youngjae. I think I smell like freshly mowed grass to Jongup.” Even though Junhong couldn’t see him, he could tell Daehyun was making a face.

“And to Yongguk-hyung?”

“He’s never told me,” Daehyun confessed, secretive, “but it’s probably old records.”

“Why?” Junhong asked again.

“It’s whatever you love most,” Daehyun said slowly. “Whatever smells the best to you, whatever brings you joy. Your strongest memory, your happiest moment. It’s different for everyone. The pheromones -- it’s not the pheromones themselves that smell.”

“Then you probably just smell like you to him,” Junhong said plainly.

Heat spiked along Daehyun’s back, and his shoulders blushed red. He said in a much smaller voice, “You think so?”

Junhong tightened the curl of his arm around Daehyun’s waist, feeling the other exhale. Their chests had started rising and falling together, in time, like their lungs were connected by a string. He said, “When you came to us, you completed the pack. We were finally whole. Yongguk-hyung was _so_ happy.”

Daehyun snorted, but it sounded forced. “He certainly didn’t look it.”

It was true. Here they were, the five of them -- Yongguk and Himchan and Youngjae and Jongup and Junhong -- living together and making it work, fixing up the house, coming together for meals, going out on pack runs. Then Yongnam, Yongguk’s twin brother and alpha of his own pack, called. Yongguk took the call in the kitchen, knowing everyone else was listening.

Yongnam said something about picking up a stray wolf, a pup really, and not having enough space in his city apartment to have a guest. Yongguk resisted, but Yongnam was older and his sway was strong. “I can’t leave him out on the street,” Yongnam had said, his voice tinny but absolute. The twins were both bleeding hearts. When Yongnam promised he’d find a pack that was interested in taking the pup in as soon as possible, Yongguk relented.

Daehyun had arrived the next day with nothing but a mostly empty backpack on his shoulders, a guarded look on his small face. Yongnam drove off quickly in order to get back to the city in time to make his day job, and Yongguk’s pack stood there in the living room, uncertain, regarding this newcomer carefully. It was Himchan who broke the ice, finally, who swept Daehyun up and bustled about to settle him in. Yongguk, their alpha, retreated into his room with stiff shoulders.

Junhong squeezed Daehyun again and nuzzled against the back of his neck, knowing it was reassurance he was after. “It took him a couple of days to process it. But remember? How angry he was when Yongnam-hyung said he’d found another pack for you? I think that was the first time I’d ever heard Yongguk-hyung raise his voice to his brother.”

“I hid,” Daehyun said, remembering. His fingers laced together with Junhong’s over his belly. “I didn’t want to go.”

“You liked it,” Junhong said, “that Yongguk-hyung pretty much fought for you.” He pressed his palm into Daehyun’s soft abdominal muscles, smiling against the older boy’s neck. Daehyun’s breath hitched, and the noise made Junhong’s heart skip a beat in time excitedly. He liked that he could elicit such a noise from Daehyun’s mouth.

Slowly, courageously, he dragged his palm up and down the expanse of skin stretching from Daehyun’s belly button to his sternum as Daehyun’s breathing grew slow and almost ragged. He was becoming too warm, his skin glowing in the bronzed light of the setting sun. Junhong felt -- peaceful. As the most recent beta in the pack, he felt his position to be a tenuous place. Young and inexperienced, he couldn’t offer the pack protection like Jongup could, or twist words like Youngjae and Himchan could. He learned everything from his older packmates, and could only shadow them in various skills. When the pack ran into problems, it was never Junhong whom they went to first for a solution. He never imagined the pack would abandon him for being basically useless, but he wanted very much to belong, to have something he could offer them that no one else could.

Daehyun pressed himself back against Junhong, a tiny vocal exhalation escaping with his breath. “Why didn’t you come to me last week?” Daehyun asked in a soft voice. He twisted so that he could look back at Junhong, and Junhong could see his cheeks were flushed, his eyes lit up from a spark that was igniting from deep inside of him. “You were the only one.”

Junhong’s lips went dry at the soft pleading face Daehyun was making at him, and his heart thumped hard in the chest. He was sure Daehyun could feel the quick rhythm of it against his back. “Everyone was already -- You didn’t need me in there, taking up space. I knew the others would take care of you. You didn’t need me in there.” Junhong pursed his lips stubbornly even though his arms wound around Daehyun more tightly.

“But I wanted you. With us. With all of us.” Daehyun said this with such a straight face that Junhong felt ashamed. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He’d only thought of all the limbs involved, all that sweat-slicked skin and the breathy moans. He’d only ever been caught masturbating once and it was by Youngjae, who just told him the addition of lube to the experience would make it so much better and walked back down the stairs. Junhong hadn’t been able to look Youngjae in the eye for _weeks_ after. Even now, the memory of being caught made his stomach curl uncomfortably.

“I just -- I wouldn’t know what to _do_ ,” Junhong admitted, hiding his face against Daehyun’s neck. The other boy had turned back around. “I would have messed things up.”

Daehyun chuckled, and Junhong tensed for teasing, but Daehyun said, “The heat makes me so far gone, I wouldn’t have noticed. No one would have.”

“But I don’t _want_ that,” Junhong said. “I don’t want it to be just -- a whatever -- with you. I want it to be good. I want it to feel good, for both of us, but for you, especially.”

Daehyun didn’t say anything for a moment, and Junhong was worried he’d somehow overstepped his bounds. Their breathing was still connected as though by a string, though Junhong was sure Daehyun was the one controlling it. “Oh, Junhong,” Daehyun said, his tone wondrous. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” Junhong said emphatically. His ears felt hot. Daehyun turned in the tight circle of his arms and then his lips were pressed against Junhong’s lips and they were kissing. Junhong’s skin pebbled with surprise. He opened his mouth to gasp and Daehyun licked against the roof of his mouth with a kittenish tongue. His hands traveled up from the small of Daehyun’s back and then down again, until one arm held Daehyun’s waist and the other was looped around the backs of his shoulders. He was dazed when they pulled apart, the kiss like a spell only Daehyun knew the true power of.

“It’s hours before the others get back,” Daehyun whispered. “And I want to show you how. I’ll show you how to make it feel good, Junhong.”

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this part has the sex.
> 
> unbeta'd.

Daehyun undressed him. He had Junhong sit up so he could lift the hem of his shirt, and Junhong slipped out of it. Daehyun was already naked and unabashed about it, cross-legged in front of Junhong, his skin smooth and unblemished save for the three lines of puckered scar tissue across the front of his chest. They all had scars: Junhong’s left shoulder was knotted over from the Bite, and Himchan had a circular scar that looked suspiciously like teeth over his right hip. Yongguk was probably covered in numerous scars and marks, but he hid them all under ink.

Their knees were touching. Junhong leaned back onto his hands as Daehyun leaned forward to untie the drawstring of his pants. They kissed again before Junhong made quick work of the rest of his clothing, sliding the fabric from his thighs. It was better that they were off. For some reason, he didn’t feel as awkward when they were both finally naked. His clothes were tossed to the hardwood floor in a crumpled heap. Daehyun said, “I needed this. This last thing. It’ll be good, Junhong. Just listen. Follow. Tell me if something makes you uncomfortable.”

“Okay,” Junhong said, surprised when his voice came out in a whisper. Daehyun was magnificent. This was clearly his element. He was a little twist of an omega, something the pack took a long time to figure out. Daehyun didn’t want to be treated like a delicate, submissive thing; he was demanding and loud and didn’t know how to do anything without throwing his whole weight behind it. And Junhong trusted him.

“God, you’re big,” Daehyun said, gaze drifting downwards as he crawled forward. Junhong inched back against the pillows. His hand against the center of Junhong’s chest, pushing. “Lie back.” Junhong went, letting his head fall onto Yongguk’s soft pillows as Daehyun straddled him right above the sharp jut of his hipbones.

“Is that bad?” Junhong asked worriedly. “Will it hurt?”

Daehyun laughed, low and dark and smooth. “No; I like big. I’m excited, Junie.”

Junhong blushed at the petname, and then the heat remained lodged in his cheeks as he imagined what it would feel like to be inside Daehyun. Probably wonderful. He placed his feet flat on the bed to adjust how he was lying on his back, making Daehyun rock over him.

He had seen Daehyun naked many times before, but never like this. He often admired the others’ bodies after a run, when they had all just shifted back and they were stretching their arms high above their heads, reaching for the dense canopy, pine needles and dead leaves underfoot, and their muscles were long and toned and lean. Strong. They would all pull on their clothing that they’d haphazardly thrown off before, hiding skin piece by piece. Daehyun was small and tight, from the way his skin stretched across his ribs to the dusky little peaks of his nipples, and Junhong was long. Sometimes he felt like an ever expanding galaxy, a little unstable in his growth, a little chaotic. “What now?” Junhong asked. His hands settled on Daehyun’s hips, resting there.

Daehyun smirked. “There’s no rush. We’ll kiss. I’ll figure out where you like to be kissed. You can try on me, too.”

Junhong nodded, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. Daehyun curved his spine over Junhong until they were nose to nose, Daehyun’s elbows on either side of Junhong’s head, and he paused, regarding Junhong carefully. The younger boy wanted to squirm under the attention, but he made himself stay still. He held his breath. He wondered what Daehyun was looking for.

Junhong let his gaze trail over Daehyun’s face, from the crown of his forehead to his soft and full cheeks to the high bridge of his nose. Daehyun’s lips were perfectly bow-shaped and plump, and his eyes were round and expressive. He considered the philtrum, the groove there under his nose, and when he looked up to meet Daehyun’s eyes again they had gone dark and full. Daehyun let his elbows drift further apart, lowering himself against Junhong’s lips.

He kissed him with brief, dry pecks until Junhong’s eyes had fallen shut and his toes were curling. His fingertips felt hot against Daehyun’s skin, so he pressed them harder into Daehyun and was rewarded with a breath of surprise.

Daehyun drew away, eyes hooded, and Junhong chewed on his bottom lip. “Sorry, was that--”

“You can keep doing that,” Daehyun said in a voice like smoke. “I like that, all over. If you’re feeling up to it, go harder.”

A flash of heat curled low in Junhong’s belly. He’d seen the marks the others had left on Daehyun over the years. Scratches all up his back, bruises in the pattern of someone’s fingers, bites that healed slowly. The marks would fade from red to purple to yellow, and Daehyun was never shy about them around the house; he bore them with a certain pride, and Junhong never missed the way the others might stroke a bruise as they walked by, as if to say, _this was my doing._ Junhong wasn’t sure that he could do the same, but Daehyun was kissing him again, and this time not on the lips.

His lips had traveled across Junhong’s cheek to his ear, where Daehyun was doing something with his earlobe that made Junhong groan and squeeze Daehyun about the hips harder. Daehyun ground back against that pressure, hips swiveling, and then he kissed Junhong down his neck before latching his lips to his throat.

A sudden surge of energy had Junhong flipping their positions, and Daehyun was underneath him, pinned and breathless. He didn’t know what he was doing, but this felt right. Daehyun smiled up at him and said, “Okay, little beta. You lead for a bit.”

Then Junhong was exploring. He tried first what Daehyun had been doing to him before, because that felt good, kissing his lips sweetly. Daehyun wrapped his arms around Junhong’s waist and squeezed, and that made him remember what Daehyun had wanted. He kissed a trail up Daehyun’s jawline and let himself sink on top of the smaller boy, his full weight, and their chests pressed together as he played with Daehyun’s earlobe between his teeth. He brushed one of his hands over Daehyun’s ribs, then again but with his nails. Daehyun inhaled sharply and Junhong pulled back again, worry making his eyes cross.

“Don’t _stop_ ,” Daehyun growled, and then his hands were in Junhong’s hair, and he was pulling him back down to him. Junhong had his lips pressed against the side of Daehyun’s neck. He smelled salt and vanilla and a hint of Yongguk. His tongue darted out and he brushed it, rough, over that patch of skin. “Teeth,” Daehyun whined, “Use your teeth.”

Daehyun’s hands were roaming everywhere, grazing and scratching and kneading. Every place he touched warmed and pulsed, and pretty soon Junhong was breathing hard, kissing and biting and scraping his teeth along Daehyun’s skin. Daehyun was fighting to kiss him back, but Junhong liked holding him down and putting his lips to a newly discovered spot on Daehyun’s body, liked the noises that dripped from Daehyun’s mouth. They wrestled until Daehyun ended up on his back with Junhong snug between his knees. This wasn’t scary at all. It almost came to him naturally, and he wondered for a moment if it was because it was Daehyun he was doing this with or if he’d be like this with anybody.

He was so engrossed in the kissing that he hadn’t paid any attention to the lower half of his body at all, until he felt himself brush against Daehyun’s hard length and a shiver of pleasure wracked him from the inside out. Junhong froze above Daehyun and groaned when the stillness made Daehyun arch up against him, seeking more. Another surge of pleasure. He held himself on his elbows and screwed his eyes shut, breathing deep to hold back the pinpricks of light that were forming against his eyelids.

“What’s wrong?” Daehyun asked, and Junhong knew he was trying to keep the impatience from his voice. He said again, more carefully, his fingers coming up to brush Junhong’s hair from his forehead, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Junhong grit through his teeth. “It’s just -- I’m so new at this--”

“You’re doing _fine_ ,” Daehyun said. “You’re doing great. Don’t second-guess yourself.”

Daehyun kept brushing his fingers through Junhong’s hair then, and it soothed him until he could open his eyes again. “You’re doing great,” Daehyun might have said. His voice was so quiet, Junhong could have imagined it, but the look in his eyes was so warm and loving and accepting, and Junhong felt a rush of affection for him.

This time when they kissed there was no guessing. Junhong had always been a fast learner. He had already discovered that Daehyun liked it when Junhong alternated kissing and biting, and now he was paying particular attention to the space just under Daehyun’s scars on his chest, using his teeth against the rough skin there, then soothing it over with his tongue and lips. Daehyun groaned underneath him and squeezed his knees on either side of Junhong’s hips, and then he was hooking his ankles together behind Junhong’s back. He brought Junhong forward with his thighs. This time, Junhong didn’t hold back his moan when they brushed against each other.

Daehyun was hard. Junhong had made him so, and the satisfaction this gave him also gave him confidence.

“You can use your hands,” Daehyun said breathlessly. He was still fighting to try to kiss Junhong, but Junhong used his weight and larger size to keep Daehyun from succeeding.

“What?” Junhong was kissing Daehyun’s stomach now, wet and open-mouthed.

“Here.” Daehyun took one of Junhong’s hands in his own and guided it down to where they were rubbing against each other. “Like this.”

Junhong didn’t watch, but he felt. Daehyun’s hand and his own hand wrapped around them both, squeezing them together. Daehyun’s thumb pressed against the tip, gathering the slick there and dragging their hands down together, then back up again. Junhong had to stop kissing him and focus on the sensation that Daehyun was giving him instead. He felt himself building up to orgasm quickly.

“I can bring you off like this,” Daehyun said, licking his lips, “or we can -- I can prep myself for you.”

Junhong couldn’t think of what to say. His mind was a mess and all he knew was that even though Daehyun was doing pretty much what he’d done by himself and to himself many times before, it felt better by infinity. His breath warmed Daehyun’s neck wetly and Daehyun kept pumping them both with their hands. Daehyun’s other hand was in his hair. He had a fistful of strands and pulled Junhong down and toward him, and his lips touched Junhong’s temple, and Junhong was suddenly, embarrassingly, gone. Spilling into Daehyun’s hand and over his stomach, sticky and hot.

It didn’t last for very long, but he was still heaving for breath after, when the brief and thick haze lifted and Daehyun was bringing them together again, their lips, their foreheads. Daehyun twisted underneath him, lifting his hips. Junhong blinked and realized slowly that Daehyun was trying to reach behind and under with his fingers.

“What can I do?” Junhong asked, regaining his breath and feeling slightly apologetic. He wanted to bring Daehyun off, too. At the same time, he felt another rumble of pleasure forming deep in his gut. He wasn’t done, and he didn’t want to be done.

Daehyun was unfazed. “Yongguk keeps the lube in that drawer,” he panted. Junhong drank him in, his face warming. Daehyun was glowing. The sun had nearly set but Daehyun’s hair seemed to have captured all light, and his eyes were glittering and huge. Junhong drifted his gaze down Daehyun’s body, his stomach where Junhong’s release was still sticky and drying, his hips, his thighs. Daehyun had pressed a single finger inside of himself, and Junhong watched as he sank onto it, knuckle after knuckle. “Junhong?”

Junhong scrambled for the drawer. For some reason, he thought it was important that he didn’t leave Daehyun unattended for too long. He came back with a small bottle of lube -- lavender-scented, the bottle promised -- and fit himself back between Daehyun’s knees. He gave the bottle to Daehyun, who took it with both hands.

“Good boy,” Daehyun teased with a curl in his lips. Junhong’s cheeks heated but he didn’t have any time to think about why the gentle praise made his insides feel like mush. Daehyun acted quickly, opening the bottle and squeezing a dollop of lube onto his fingers. He worked a finger inside of himself again, and then another, and another. “Do you want to try?” he asked.

Junhong curled his fingers over himself. He was already hard again, just from watching. He thought about replacing Daehyun’s fingers with something else and squeezed himself around the base. “Yes,” he breathed out.

He bent forward to kiss him. Daehyun received him, his knees falling apart, his fingers slipping free of himself, and Junhong touched him tentatively where he was stretched and wet. Daehyun jerked underneath him. “Fill me up,” he hissed. “I’m ready. Go slow. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Junhong asked. He kissed Daehyun’s forehead and nose. Daehyun seemed tiny, then, and Junhong was so big. His limbs too long and gangly. His hair wild. But Daehyun smiled up at him and his cheeks were a lovely shade of pink.

“ _Yes_ ,” he said.

Junhong pressed himself against Daehyun. The resistance seemed impossible. Daehyun held onto his shoulders as he pushed as slowly as he could, and they both paused for breath when Junhong finally slipped inside. Pleasure rolled like a wave inside of him, but he managed to keep relatively still, even though it felt like his knees were going to give out. “How does it feel?” Junhong asked tentatively, taking in the glazed-over look in Daehyun’s eyes.

“Good,” Daehyun said. “More. Rock your hips. Don’t be afraid of hurting me.”

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” Junhong said quickly, almost drawing himself back out, eyes wide. “I don’t want that--”

Daehyun shushed him and tightened his ankles behind Junhong’s hips. “That’s not what I meant,” he explained. “I know you don’t want to hurt me. I trust you. I just want to feel you. All of you.” As he spoke, he dug his heels into the small of Junhong’s back, and Junhong inched forward. Daehyun was hot all over and inside, too, and he was tight and velvety. Junhong exhaled, watching Daehyun’s face for any sign that he should stop, but Daehyun’s mouth only fell open, his head tilting back, exposing his throat. “Fuck,” he said, more of a moan than a word, and they stilled for a moment. “Okay. I’m good. More.”

It was something Daehyun said often during sex, Junhong realized. After the careful way Junhong fit himself inside his hyung, after allowing him time to adjust, after Daehyun started rocking himself onto Junhong’s thick length, it was all he could seem to say. He wanted more: harder and faster and bigger. Rougher. He wanted hands and knees. He wanted teeth. He wanted teeth most of all.

The bed creaked underneath them. Night had fallen, and now the only light they had was the light of the silvery moon. Junhong bit into the meat of Daehyun’s shoulder and thrust into him hard, feeling pressure build behind his navel. It was coming on too soon again, he thought, but he couldn’t help it. Daehyun felt so good, so tight, so _his_.

“Mark me,” Daehyun gasped. “When the others get back. I want them to know.”

“They’ll be able to smell it,” Junhong managed to say.

“Not! The! Point!” Daehyun practically shouted, each word punctuated by a thrust. Junhong knew he was big. Certainly bigger than Himchan and Jongup, and he wondered if Daehyun was feeling something new with him, maybe even something better. He thought this was so, because Daehyun mewled against him and his eyes rolled back into his head when Junhong quickened the pace.

He wanted to do what Daehyun asked, but then he also wanted to take it further. That sudden surge of energy returned to him again, and he found himself biting against Daehyun’s neck as he pressed the omega’s knees apart in a painful stretch, rutting into him. He felt Daehyun clench tight around him as he cried out, his muscles spasming and his fingers scrabbling against Junhong’s back and shoulders. Wet warmth seeped between them as Daehyun came.

Junhong wasn’t far behind. He pulled out and found his release again against Daehyun’s stomach, and then he pulled back smugly. Daehyun fell to pieces around him, arms limp against his sides, thighs obscenely spread. He was heaving for breath, his eyes dazed, and he was smiling. “I’m going to smell like you,” he said.

“I thought that wasn’t the point,” Junhong said, grinning back. Sweat dripped down from Junhong’s temples. He wanted to kiss him again.

Junhong thought that Daehyun would want to clean up with a shower, but all the omega did was wipe himself off a bit with some tissues from Yongguk’s nightstand. Then he touched the mark Junhong had left with his teeth on his neck and tangled himself with Junhong’s long limbs. They didn’t speak. Slowly, their breaths synced. Junhong brushed Daehyun’s hair back from his forehead and watched it fall back into place in clumps. They were both sweaty and gross and probably ripe, but this didn’t bother him the way he thought it would. He didn’t feel dirty or embarrassed. He felt good. Like he belonged there.

“Are you okay?” Junhong asked.

“Perfect,” Daehyun said. The single word made Junhong giddy with pleasure. “Now I belong to all of you,” Daehyun said sleepily, “and you belong to me.”

Junhong tightened his hold around Daehyun. He breathed him in: warm honey and spiced vanilla, salt and sand. Outside the window, he saw the glow of encroaching headlights.

The pack was coming home.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you c for the prompt and your cheerleading <3 hope you liked it

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [wheniwasonashelf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheniwasonashelf/pseuds/wheniwasonashelf) Log in to view. 




End file.
